Flack & Angell The Gym
by Runner043
Summary: This is the 4th installment in my "Flack & Angell's; First Dates" series. It is about their 2nd date and stands alone, but is best if read in after "Flack & Angell; A Real Date".


"The Gym" is about Flack & Angell's 2nd date and takes place after 5.7 "Dead Inside".  
"The Gym" is the 4th installment in my "Flack & Angell; First Dates" series.  
It stands alone, but there are minor references to previous stories.  
#1 - Dutch & 3  
#2 - Rest Your Wings  
#3 - A Real Date  
#4 - The gym

* * *

_'Is that her?'_ Detective Don Flack asked himself as he shifted his gym bag to his right hand to sign in._ 'It sure looks like her.'_ He told himself walking to the men's dressing room. After changing into workout apparel, Flack hit the weights for his almost-nightly workout. He was working the leg circuit tonight, which he knew meant his legs would be sore tomorrow, so he hoped there were no perps that would take off on him to have to run after. The leg press didn't have a very good view of the treadmills, so he still couldn't tell if it was her. _'Kinda looks like her, but I've never seen her here before.'_ he kept telling himself as he watched her from the far side of the room till he decided he'd better stop staring and concentrate on his own business.

Ninety minutes later Flack had finished his workout and was emerging from the pool area. He had just enough of a view from the hallway to see that she was still on the treadmill. _'Well, whoever she is, she's one hell of a runner.'_ He told himself as he headed back into the dressing room.

Detective Jessica Angell broke her straight ahead gaze to notice the blue eyes staring at her. "Oh my God, Angell. That really is you." Flack said, running a hand thru his still wet hair.

"What, Flack? You've never seen anyone run on a treadmill before?" She said, not altering her stride.

"I've never seen anyone on a treadmill when I arrive, that was still on it when I'm leaving." He said, fishing out his car keys. "You're one hell of a runner."

"Gotta be. Can't exactly tell a perp to slow down during a chase." She said, returning her gaze straight ahead.

"True. Well, g'night."

"G'night." She replied, pushing a few buttons on the panel.

Flack watched her pick up her pace as he walked away, thanks to a mirrored wall. _'Yep, one hell of a runner.'_ He thought, knowing he really should get on the treadmill more often himself.

* * *

The laughs from the bullpen could be heard as he exited the locker room. "Hey, Flack, ya gotta come see these. There's one in here of you." Officer Chebouski yelled.

Flack walked over to see the photos spread all over one of the desks as each officer was curious to see if they were in any of them. Not seeing who slid it his direction, Flack picked up the photo of him using the leg press. He wasn't surprised there had been a guy there with a camera as there had been talk about putting up some pictures in the break & locker rooms to encourage the officers to take advantage of the NYPD gym. Staying fit was very important in their line of work. Flack remembered trying not to look at the camera he realized was pointing his direction, just in case it really was pointed his direction. "How much ya got on there, Flack? Gotta be at least 280 lbs." He heard someone ask. Flack just shrugged as he put the photo down. It was only 230 lbs.

"Damn! Now there's a good reason to go to the gym!" Detecitve Caine said, turning around the photo in his hand so the others could see it. Caine was still a fairly new transfer to their Manhattan presinct and had earning a reputation as both a big mouth and a womanizer.

"I wouldn't let her hear you say that." Chebouski warned with a serious expression. "She'll tear your head off."

"She's probably the only woman that Caine can catch...." another officer said, ".... but only 'cause she's on a treadmill." he grinned as the other Officers & Detectives laughed.

"I'm serious." Chebouski said, looking straight at Caine. "Don't mess with her." Chebouski always had a protective father-figure position over everyone in the squad and he wasn't fond of Caine's usual topics of conversation.

"Aw, common Chebouski. Ya gotta tell me who she is."

"Actually, you won't be able to tell who it is." A man whom Flack recognized as the photographer from the gym chimed in as he approached with Captain Gerrard. "I dropped off the wrong file. These are the correct ones." He added, pulling out a photo from the file in his hand, then explained, "My plan is to crop each picture so it focuses on the muscle movement and not on who it's a picture of. Here's an example..." he held up the photo, which Flack immediately recognized as that if him. It was true. If you didn't know it was him, it would just look like two legs pushing some weights.

As the crowd dispersed to get back to work, Flack looked at the rest of the photos in the file, coming across one in particular that got his attention. "Hey, photographer." He called out, not ever catching his actual name. The photographer, who was talking to Gerrard, turned to Flack. "Interesting muscle group to focus on, don't you think?" Flack asked, holding up the photo of Angell on the treadmill that had been cropped from her ribs to the bottom of the biking shorts she was wearing.

"Names Potter, by the way. And, um,.... abs." He stumbled out, realizing that photo should not have been included in the file. He reached for the file and pulled out another photo, cropped just below the knees to show Angell's lean calves and feet ponding on the treadmill. Obviously a more appropriate picture and the one he had intended to be in the file in the first place. "Definetly, killer abs on that lady. But I decided to go with this one." He said, getting very nervous as Flack took a closer look at all the photos.

"Well, look, Captain. Seems Potter here has managed to get Detective Angell's _'abs'_ in just about every shot." Flack shot Potter a glare at the word 'abs'.

Gerrard stepped closer to the first group of phots the men had left spread across the desk, and sure enough, almost every shot had Angell in it somewhere. Gerrard also shot Potter a nasty look and said, "Come with me, Potter. We're gonna go find that memory card from your camera." Potter had a nervous look on his face as the Captain lead him out of the bullpen.

* * *

Angell slammed her locker shut and sat on the bench, before she turned to see Flack coming in.

"You heading to the gym again tonight?" He asked, taking off his jacket. "There's a real punching bag there that would probably work better than your locker."

"Nah. Think I'll just hit the streets to run tonight." She replied, tieing her running shoes.

"Surprised I hadn't seen you at the gym before."

"I don't usually go to that one."

"Where do you go?"

"My old presinct's"

"All the way over there, just to use the gym? Why's that?"

"Because there it's divided into a 'women's' workout area and a 'men's' workout area. Which means I can hit the treadmill, do the weight circuit, then get in some kick boxing without anyone staring at my _'abs'_." She replied, rolling her eyes at the word 'abs'.

"Pick you up at eight." Flack said, fully understanding and agreeing with her as he left the locker room to head to the gym.

* * *

"Your shoes are getting wet." Flack said, stating the obvious to Angell as he walked up the steps to her apartment building. She was waiting for him there. He noticed she was wearing different shoes than the wine colored ones she had to their prevous dinners.

"They need a new awning here." She observed. "Oh well, I have others." She added, looking down at her black pumps.

"I was going to come up to your door for you, ya know. Your shoes would still be dry." She just shrugged as they began descending the steps, heading for his car quickly to dodge the rain. He was at least glad he got to open the door for her. She smiled at him before getting in.

"I'm, uh, not used to attention like that." She said, with a slight blush after he got in.

"I can tell. And obviously when we're at work then you're 'Angell' or 'Detective Angell', and if we're going somewhere together we'll probably meet at the car where you can open your own door." She nodded in agreement at the obvious but could tell he had something else to say. "But when it's us going out on a date," he began, lifting a finger under her chin to maintain their gaze, "I like to come up for you. I like to open doors for you." She blushed and started to look away, but he maintained his hand and didn't let her, "Jess, I like treating you like a lady." She blushed again, but didn't try to look away, instead she gave him a little smile as he leaned in to kiss her. "Can you let me do that?" He asked, as their lips parted. "I know you're a strong and independent woman, Jess, but can you let me do that much when we're out together like this,.... please."

_'Oh, God. Those blue eyes are gorgous.'_ she thought to herslef. But, "Yeah." was her only reply.

* * *

Except for the sound of the rain, the drive to the restaurant was rather quiet. Flack and Angell each deep in their own thoughts....

Angell:  
_I can't believe he's like this, most men are such jerks. They just want to get their hands on you. They only take you to dinner so you feel like you owe them something. Or just killing time, waiting for that third date when they think they can score with you. Yeah, the ol' 'Dutch & 3', that's for sure. I hope Flack isn't like that. He's taking me to another nice restaurant, I know that, so he's not some cheap dude. At least that's nice. But this is only date number two, so... we'll see, I guess._

Flack:  
_Why do men have to treat her like that? She's gorgous, that's obvious, but.... oh man, what she has to put up with. I've gotta prove to her that I'm not like that. I've been like that, just wanting to hurry up and get to that third date, but I can't be that way with her. I can't be like that any more. I can't treat her like that. I won't let myself treat her like that. She deserves better._

Fortunately the awning at the restaurant was much larger so they arrived at the entrance nice and dry. Flack had made a reservation, so they were seated right away. Dinner was ordered, wine and salad had been served.

"How was your run?" He asked her.

"Wet." She replied between bites. "How was your trip to the gym?"

"Productive." He said, then picked up his wine glass. "I had a little talk with the director there." Angell's expression was clearly that of curiousity. "He was asking everyone there for their input on how to get more officers to use the facility. Do we have enough equipment, could we improve the layout? That kind of thing. So I made a suggestion." Flack stuffed his salad filled fork into his mouth.

"Well,...?" She nudged him to continue. "Geez, Flack. Don't you know how to finish a story?"

"You can call me 'Don', you know. We're not at work."

"I know. It's just going to take some getting used to. It's like turning a switch on and off. At work you're 'Flack' or 'Detective Flack' then we go out and suddenly you're 'Don'. I just don't want to slip up and call you 'Don' at work and have everyone look at me sideways or start asking questions." Flack nodded in understanding as she continued, "We agreed to keep our private life... private. And I don't want to screw that up for us because of a slip of the tongue."

"I know what you mean. I feel the same way."

"Good. Now finish telling your story." It was now her turn to listen and eat.

"Oh yeah, so, my suggestion was that they needed to reorganize the two rooms there. Split up equipment equially between the two rooms. That way, the women can have one side and the men have the other." He could tell she was trying to quickly empty her mouth to speak. "You were right, Jess. Our female officers deserve to be comfortable at the gym or they're not going to use it. You shouldn't have to drive all the way over to the 424th to use their gym, just to keep from being oogled in your own."

Angell had finished her mouthfull, but was still not speaking. She didn't know what to say.

* * *

"You, um, wanna come in for coffee?" Angell asked as she unlocked her apartment door. It was an invitation for coffee, nothing more. She knew that, and hoped he did.

He did. He wanted to spend as much time with her as possible. He wanted as much personal and private time with her as he could get. But, "No." he replied reluctantly, "I mean, we both have work in the morning. Early shifts. So, I should probably go."

She nodded. "Mhmm." She mumbled through a smile, surprised at his turning down the offer, an offer any other guy she'd dated would have jumped at.

Resting his arm on the door's frame, just above her head, he leaned in to kiss her good night. Dispite her high heels, she still stood on her toes to meet him. He wanted to put an arm around her waist, that tiny little waist of hers. He wanted to put his hand in her hair and pull her closer for a more passionate kiss. But he did neither. It took all the willpower he could muster, but he resisted. He broke away first, smiling at her, he asked, "So, Saturday night?" Angell smiled, as she lowered her heels back to the floor without breaking their mutual gaze, her brown eyes to his blue. "We'll work our way thru your shoe collection one dinner at a time." She laughed and nodded at the clever line. "Good night, Jess."

"Good night, Don. Thanks for dinner, it was very nice."


End file.
